Hang A Sign On Me
by PotterIsMyPatronus
Summary: A Frerard. Gerard is suffering in many ways. Sometimes the biggest torture of all is holding on. But the mysterious Frank Iero appears from nowhere to show him how much staying strong is really worth.
1. Amanda

**Hi, guys. This is my first ever Frerard fic, and I am currently obsessed with them. This is mostly for Jodie. Because she loves them too. THANKS FOR THE OREOS, BABES.**

* * *

Gerard brushed his hair from his eyes, reached over to take a swig of the warm coffee in his flask and eyed the foundations of what he hoped would be a drawing sceptically. Something was off, and he couldn't put his finger on it. His eyes scanned the page, double-checking the proportions, eyeing the curve the trunk of a tree made in the corner of his drawing. He hadn't even starting to shade yet and it looked terrible. Exasperated, he slammed his pencil down onto the dirty cafeteria table and glared at his full plate of food.

Mikey, his younger brother, who was also in his year due to his brains causing him to move up a couple of grades, shifted uneasily in his seat. Gerard knew what he was thinking.

"Hey, Gee, you okay?" Mikey asked, his voice soft in the thrum of arrogant cafeteria voices.

Gee said nothing, dissolving in the ignorance of the air. It was like a vicious game of Hide and Seek, but he didn't know how. God, it was confusing.

"That's nice," Mikey said.

Gerard shifted his glare to Mikey. Mikey shrank back in his seat.

"Are you going to eat today?"

As response, Gerard shoved his full plate away from him.

"Come on, Gee, at least try—"

"Leave it, Mikey," Gerard snapped.

Mikey shut up after that. Gerard sipped his coffee.

Compared to most of Gerard's days, this was a good day. None of the jock decided to pay him a glance, let alone exchange words – mostly bitter ones – or punches. This was a good day.

Of course, Gerard knew they never lasted.

/. /. /. /. /.

Mikey cast him a disapproving look. "You're skipping _again_?"

Gerard hitched his bag up his shoulder.

"Fine. I'll be waiting by the car, okay? See you." Mikey smiled weakly before hurrying off to class.

Without Mikey, Gerard was very lonely. Of course, he had Ray, but Ray was rarely at school, as he was too busy perfecting his music skills. Gerard used to have Amanda, but she got hit by a car in freshman year. Her spine was crushed, and she died instantly.

Gerard hated thinking about Mandy. How she flicked her hair over her shoulder and laughed all the time. How they could tell each other everything. She smiled sweetly when Gerard told her he was gay. She didn't judge when he told her his secrets. Her hugs were as sweet as the candy from the corner shop down the street, and her special little way of telling you everything was going to be okay.

And she died. She crossed the road without looking. The car, going at seventy on a road with a limit of forty, hit her smack bang in her stomach. She died right there, in a puddle on the floor and her mouth still parted from the scream that escaped her lips.

And Gerard watched.

Oh, damn, he was almost crying again. Pull yourself together, Gerard. It's been three years. He raised his hand to wipe his eyes, but it froze halfway up.

He heard the distinct sound of their heavy shoes slamming against the floor of the corridor before he heard their voices. He quickly pulled up his hoodie and sped up his walking. They yelled something.

Too late.

A fist slammed into the locker beside his head and the cruel face of Lucas Smith was inches from his. One of Smith's friends, Nathan, the one with the titanium eyebrow stud, jeered about Gerard's crying. The third, Peter, the blond one, doubled over in harsh laughter, but Lucas's eyes were focused on Gerard. He leaned over and whispered something sickeningly sweet into Gerard's ear while his friends exchanged horrific grins, like their faces were being torn into something that resembled a smile but bared too many pointed teeth. Gerard's eyes widened until the hazel pupil was surrounded by white. He felt Lucas bite the shell of his ear.

Gerard's eyes darted around the room, taking in white walls too far away, a door shrinking and widening with his vertigo, and posters on the walls that were too bright, advertising the chess club and the cheerleading squad. Memories gnawed at his stomach, but they were soon replaced by a very real fist.

He doubled over, choking, thin hands clenching around the fabric of his hoodie around his stomach area. Everything was pale and clear. His feet were struggling to find the floor, there one second, gone another. His head was wheeling around, everything in a flash of colour; whacked against the lockers, against the floor, into the darkness, out again. His vision was spat in and out of existence. Reality was agony in his spine. He'd rather be dead than this.

Suddenly, a different voice pierced through Gerard's painful bubble, and he was still on the floor at last, the demons gone back to Hell or wherever they went when they weren't torturing Gerard, every inch of him throbbing. His eyes could open to slits at most. He kept them closed.

Someone was getting closer. The floor shook like an earthquake with every step they took. It reminded Gerard of Amanda. He didn't like it.

"Can you hear me?" the voice said.

No, I can't, Gerard screamed in his head. I can't hear you. God, please…

"You're Gerard Way, right? You're in most of my classes." The voice was talking to itself now. Gerard decided to change his mind. The voice was so heavenly in his abused ears. Sweet angel, keep speaking. "Gerard, we're going to get you out of here. Can you stand?"

Gerard moved his leg, and his face contorted in pain. Flames licked from his ankle to his mid-thigh.

"Gerard, look at me. Can you look at me? I'm Frank Iero. I'm going to help you."

Gerard peeled his swollen eyes open, and saw a blur of white and black. His vision slowly focused, and an angel incarnate was leaning over him. He had never seen anyone quite like the angel who called himself Frank.

"Are you hearing this? I'm going to help you."

Gerard cocked his head to the side, ignoring the flare of pain in his neck. "Okay," he rasped, before slipping into the dark sea that was so patiently waiting for him.

/. /. /. /. /. /. /. /. /.


	2. Glue

**I love this. I'm writing more chapters. 7 at most. Jodie knows why. Thanks for the oreos and the hugs. You're beautiful :)**

**Deodorant.**

* * *

When Gerard emerged from the cold hands of the darkness, the first thing he registered was the pain everywhere. His eye had a twitch, his head pounded in rhythm with his rapid heartbeat and his leg, secured in a lime green cast, prickled like he'd stuck it in flames and then thrown water over it, leaving it to smoke and smoulder and blister.

The second thing he registered was that the room he was in was not his own. Posters of rock stars shouting under multi-coloured lights were pasted along the walls of the room; so many that Gerard could only see a few strips of the actual wall beneath them. There was a rainbow banner along the curtain rail, and loads of CDs on an oak bookshelf in the corner. There were multiple packets of Skittles dotted around the room. There was one underneath the pillow, one beneath a science book, one shoved between a pile of plush toys and one poking out of a slightly open desk drawer.

The third thing Gerard registered was that there was someone else in the room with him.

"Where am I?" Gerard yelled, shooting upwards. Big mistake. He winced as pain shot like lightning up his spine.

Frank stood up from his chair by the bed. "Hey! Hey! Relax, there! You're in my bedroom."

Gerard didn't relax. "I don't even know you. Why am I here?"

"You got beaten half to death by a couple of jocks."

Gerard laughed without humour. "Yeah," he said, "that happens a lot."

Frank collapsed back onto the chair as his knees gave out. "That happened before?"

"At least once a week." Gerard started casually studying his fingernails, which had been bitten to stubs.

Frank was silent for a while, and Gerard didn't look up to see his expression. There was a stain on the duvet that looked like orange juice had been spilled on it.

After a while, Frank spoke. "That is messed up."

Gerard didn't say anything.

"Why weren't they caught?" Frank demanded.

"I don't know!" Gerard snapped. "How should I know? Just drop it."

"I'm not going to 'just drop it'!" Frank protested.

Gerard glared.

"Look at you! Your face is practically completely black and blue! And it probably hurts, as well. What am I saying; of course it hurts!"

Gerard began twiddling his thumbs. "It's not the worst."

"Not the worst? If this isn't the worst, I'm scared to imagine what is!"

"Drop it!" Gerard yelled.

"Man, I saved your life. The least you can do is say thank you." Frank was glowering now.

Gerard picked at a loose thread on the duvet. He hesitated, before saying, "You should have left me there. You think you're helping, but you're not. If you wanted to help, you would have let me die." He looked up at Frank.

Frank just gave him this heavy stare with too much meaning to it. His eyes were knives digging through his retina, down into his soul, flicking through its contents. Gerard wasn't sure if he liked the feeling, but Frank's stare was so solid that he couldn't think to look away. It wasn't awkward, but it was the unfamiliar emotion of understanding that was so often faked, and one Gerard had learned to hate. Without his permission, he began scratching his wrist.

"Do you have a bathroom?" Gerard whispered.

Frank blinked a couple of times and his eyes refocused. "Sure. Just through that door." He pointed to a poster near his wardrobe.

Gerard glanced over at it. "Door?" he repeated, confused.

"Behind the poster of Blink 182," he elaborated, muffling a chuckle.

Gerard's eyes found the said poster, and below it he noticed a metal doorknob. He got up, twisted it, walked into the bright white bathroom and locked the door behind himself.

And then he completely broke down.

At one look at his swollen, bruised face in the mirror, he collapsed against it, raking his blunt fingernails down it, gasping with the tearless sobs that racked his chest. The baggy sleeves of his hoodie had slipped down to his elbow to reveal puckered scars down his arm, crisscrossing over each other like a giant knot. The tears Gerard hoped would begin to fall didn't, as they had already been cried. It felt even emptier in his stomach without them, like a cavern of pain and misery. His throat tightened and loosened with the force of his sobs, and soon he was dry retching, his stomach clenching, yet nothing escaping from his lips but compressed air. His spine was shaking and spitting pain at him; his head was pounding even more now, hammering in his head like a giant speaker booming out a deep bass. His lungs were spluttering with the effort of his convulsions. His body was so weak, and his mind felt the strain. The light of the room began blinking, and he just crumpled up and tried to make something happen without really doing anything.

Then he realised the door was open.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Frank, a bold figure against his blinding vision, holding in his slender fingers what seemed to be a hair grip.

He could pick locks.

That was news to Gerard.

"Gerard."

Frank was speaking now. Gerard breathed deeply and remained curled like a hedgehog on the ground, eyes scanning the pristine tiled floor.

"Get up."

And Gerard had to obey. He didn't have control of himself anymore. His body yearned for that control.

"Come with me. Sit on the bed."

In a blurred, numb haze, Gerard followed Frank out of the bathroom and did as he commanded, perched on the end of the bed.

"Talk to me."

Frank was the only person who hadn't treated him differently when he broke down. Everyone else treated him like he was some sort of lunatic, using sickly words like 'sweetie' and 'baby' and every other code-word for insane in whatever dictionary there is. But Frank was blunt and exact. Sharp and painless.

"Not about why you're crying. I don't know you yet."

Gerard looked up in shock. Frank was also the only person who didn't try to prise the truth from him.

Frank leaned over and looked Gerard directly in the eyes. "Talk to me about everything and anything. The first thing you think about when you wake up in the morning. Your favourite food. Your talent. What you want for Christmas. Anything."

Gerard jumped slightly when he felt hesitant fingers on the back of his hand.

"Talk," Frank whispered.

And so Gerard did.

_*** Frank's POV ***_

God, Gerard was messed up.

Gerard Way reminded Frank of glass. It could hold its own, rather strong and resilient against acid although it was completely transparent. However, as soon as it broke, there's no turning back. That one crack throws of the stability of the entire pane of glass; one prod in the wrong place could send it crashing down in sharp shards. It just lies there, small and vulnerable, waiting for someone to glue it back together.

Frank tentatively held one of his skeletal hands, one small shard on the floor, and by brushing his thumb over the top, applied the glue.

Frank had always loved a difficult project, and now he was about to begin the most difficult of all.

He was going to glue Gerard back together.

* * *

**Next chapter up soon. Courtney, you are a pig/croc, and Jodie, you're alright.**

**Hope you enjoyed!**


	3. Phoning Mikey (Mom)

**I am currently writing from Slovenia so I am very cold. Enjoy the next update to my story. Yes, my reviewer did call me a shoe. I love you too, Courtney. Or Jodie. Whoever you are. Whatever.**

* * *

_*** Frank's P.O.V. ***_

* * *

The sky was growing gradually darker outside as Frank bounced questions off of Gerard like ping pong balls.

"Favourite food?" Frank asked.

"I don't eat."

"Favourite drink?"

"Coffee."

"Favourite colour?"

"What's with all the damn questions?" Gerard demanded.

"Answer me!"

"Whoa, alright! Blue!"

"Favourite animal?"

"A gazelle."

Frank almost snorted. "A gazelle."

"Yeah. They're…graceful," Gerard said, making a smooth hand gesture.

Frank raised an eyebrow. "Favourite person?"

"You, of course, baby," Gerard jested.

Frank chuckled. "Seriously."

"Seriously? Well, probably my brother, then. Speaking of my brother, may I borrow your phone? I said I'd meet him to give him a ride home. I hope he made it back okay…" Gerard nibbled on his lower lip.

Frank nodded and got his mobile out of the pocket of his jeans. Gerard punched in a few numbers and held the phone to his ear.

"Mikey? …Oh, hi Mom… A friend's house… Since when do you care? …I only called because I wanted to speak to Mikey… Don't cry, Mom, it wasn't that bad this time… No, don't get anyone involved. I can sort this… Mom, stop… Can I speak to Mikey? Did he get home okay? …I didn't ask for it to happen, Mom… Well, I'll come home, then… What? You can't do that… Fine! I will. Just pass me over to Mikey!"

Gerard waited, still, for a few moments, before his mouth dropped open. He took the phone from his ear.

"She hung up on me. God, my own mother," he ranted. He began punching more numbers. "I'll call Mikey's cell." He one again pressed the phone against his ear and waited. Frank could hear the phone line beeping.

"Mikey?" Gerard said hesitantly.

Suddenly, a long stream of swearwords came out of the phone microphone, so loud that Frank could hear them crystal clear.

"Mikey? What's wrong?" Gerard asked.

"Why didn't you tell me it'd happened again?" Mikey gasped. "I am your _brother_. We are _blood_. I should have been the _first_ to be told." Gasp. "But no, just leave it for _three hours_. You even called _Mom_ before me and you hate Mom!"

Gerard's eyes widened. "It's been three hours? I'm so sorry, Mikey. Really."

"It's okay. I tried to persuade Mom to let you come back, but she was crying really hard, Gee. It was scary," Mikey whispered, fear in the unstable tone of his voice.

Frank leaned forward, confused. "What?"

"Who's there with you, Gee?" Mikey asked.

"Frank Iero. He saved me from the jocks." Gerard sent Frank a fleeting smile, which Frank returned. "She kicked me out for the night," Gerard told him.

Frank was appalled. "What? She can't do that. You're injured."

Gerard shrugged.

"You don't know our mom," Mikey said through the phone.

"I'm not sure I want to." Frank shoved his hand under the mattress and pulled out a giant bag of Skittles, which he began to eat. He loved Skittles. Words just didn't describe his infatuation with Skittles.

"I can try to convince Mom. I think I can do it…" Mikey said.

Gerard shook his head, despite Mikey not being able to see. "Don't get yourself into trouble, Mikey. I can sort myself out for tonight. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

Mikey sighed. "Okay. Will you be at school?"

"No," Gerard replied. "I'm going to be too sore to move by tomorrow. I need my rest."

"Fine. I'll see you, Gee. Love you."

"Love you too, Mikey." Gerard hung up the phone and pressed it into Frank's hand.

Gerard slowly eased up and off the bed. He grabbed his bag and began to shove into it the school supplies that had spilled out of it.

"Where are you going?" Frank asked, frantic. "You're hurt."

"I need to find somewhere to stay for tonight. I know there's a hotel a half hour's walk away."

Frank began to shake his head. "No. No, no, no. You can't go like this."

Gerard crammed in another thick textbook. "I don't have a choice."

"Stay here. Just for tonight."

"I don't know you," Gerard protested, raising his head to look at Frank through his bruised eyes.

Frank took Gerard's hand in both of his own, his eyes pleading, imploring Gerard to see reason. "Try to," he whispered.

Gerard blushed furiously, but to Frank's delight and relief, stopped packing his bag. "Just for tonight."

* * *

_*** Later ***_

* * *

Gerard was wearing one of Frank's ratty shirts and it was way too tight on him. Frank could see his lean chest through the fabric and it was ever so distracting.

Frank wriggled into his bed and stared up at Gerard, who was hesitating in the corner of the room. "I hope you don't mind sharing a bed. You don't really know me."

Gerard crossed the room, got into the bed and snuggled close to Frank, his hands clenching around the fabric of Frank's loose t-shirt, his head on Frank's shoulder. "Frankie, I can try to, just like you said. And if snuggling in a double bed doesn't start a working friendship, I don't know what does."

Frank blushed and smiled. "Goodnight, Glass Boy."

Gerard didn't question the nickname, but made an adorable questioning sound in the back of his throat and cuddled closer.

Gerard didn't let go, and Frank froze. Gerard was latched onto Frank like a limpet, a warm and very male body moulded into his own. Being gay, Frank wasn't opposed to this, but this was different. Gerard was the strangest, frailest and, in a way, most beautiful person Frank had ever met. Frank couldn't help bust begin to comb his fingers through Gerard's silky hair.

And when Gerard succumbed to a deep on Frank's chest, looking so open and vulnerable, Frank couldn't prevent a smile from creeping to his lips and eyes.

Whether Gerard would be a good friend to Frank, he didn't know, but Frank was eager to try.

However, if things kept up like this, being friends would only be the start.

* * *

**I'm not very proud of this. I had to write most of the 'later' section five times over before I found it satisfactory. But it isn't about me. Did you like it? Review please.**

**All my love,**

**PotterIsMyPatronus (Rhi)**


	4. Dreaming

It has been _**way**_ too long since this. School, can you go away please? Thanks.

Enjoy! :D

* * *

*** Frank's P.O.V. ***

* * *

_Bang!_

_Crash!_

Some black form juddered around him, figures jolted beside him, and the smell of burning rubber invaded his nose, causing it to burn. It was way to hot, wherever he was, and things were getting slowly clearer. The clarity was already hurting, or was that the fog clouding his mind? Everything felt unimportant, and he was forgetting. But what? What was there to worry about? The darkness couldn't hurt him yet.

The figures could.

The fabric of a car seat felt scratchy under his clinging, desperate fingertips. The car window was open – he could feel the wind on his face.

They were picking up speed. The air whipped around him. White powder lay on the car floor. It was all going round and round and round and _round_ like a whirlpool. And it was dark and nothing but dark, except the powder, which was _smiling_ and _teasing_ and _itching_ and _glowing_ like the moon.

A girl _screamed_, her mouth opening wide, blackened, filled with teeth white as the powder. The figures scrambled. They were hurtling down into a white light, which was growing.

There was a sound like hands hitting water, and the world was crystal bright. Everything was falling apart, crumbling. The walls of his consciousness were ripping apart and slipping through his fingers as if they were flimsy strips of paper.

There was another harsh bang.

He was alone.

He was _falling_…

* * *

*** Gerard's P.O.V. ***

* * *

Frank started beside Gerard.

Gerard woke and rubbed his heavy eyes. As the world began to focus beside him, he saw a boy beside him, skinny, hugging his knees to his chest, hiding his face, and shaking. Gerard didn't think it was the cold. He turned on the lamp on the bedside table.

"Frank," Gerard whispered. "Frankie?"

Frank lifted his face. Tears glistened in the lamplight as they rolled slowly down his cheeks. His shoulders were still shaking.

"I'm so alone, Gerard," Frank murmured, voice breaking. He sounded so helpless and vulnerable.

Gerard pushed the heavy duvet away from him and shuffled closer to Frank. "What? What do you mean? I'm here."

Frank gasped and wiped the tears from his face. "They all died, Gerard; everyone but me. They all died, so why didn't I? Is this someone's cruel way of punishing me for being such a worthless little—?"

"Don't say that!" Gerard snapped, grabbing Frank's tear-streaked face. He looked like a little boy again. "I don't even know you much yet, and I think you're amazing."

Frank smiled half-heartedly. "You know me enough to sleep with me."

Gerard gaped, his face flushing red. After a few minutes of gaping like a fish out of water, he snapped, "I slept _beside_ you, not with you!"

"Is there a difference?" Frank wiggled his eyebrows.

"Yes! What are you, bipolar?"

"Nope. I'm just a regular gay who is currently distracted by an extremely attractive companion."

"…Are you hitting on me?"

"What on earth gave you that idea?" said Frank mock-innocently.

Gerard growled. "I don't even know you. You obviously don't need my help, so if you don't mind—" Gerard plumped up the pillow behind him "—I am going back to sleep."

Frank sobered up and grabbed Gerard by the wrist. "No, don't. I'm sorry. I'm trying to take my mind off of it, I guess."

"Well, if you take your mind off of nightmares by hitting on people, I'm sure there are some very eager teddy bears for you to practice on." Gerard glared.

"You're really gay," Frank noted.

"Well," Gerard retorted, "I'm not the one flirting with a male stranger."

"I'm not the one in some male stranger's bed," Frank countered.

Gerard bristled and flopped back on the bed with his back to Frank.

Frank sighed, before lying back too and breathing, "Goodnight, Gerard."

"Night," Gerard replied.

Gerard didn't go back to sleep – he stared at the ceiling, tracing the little bumps and scratches on it with his eyes. For some strange reason, Gerard felt…happy. If that's what you could call it. He hadn't felt this for a long time.

Somehow, this warm feeling reminded him of Mandy. Yet Frank was the opposite of Mandy. They were complete polar opposites. Mandy had light hair, he had dark. Mandy would frown on any sort of piercing or tattoo; he had a lip ring, a nose stud and tattoos all over him. Mandy loved every kind of fruit and vegetables; Frank had Skittles hidden all around his room and unless it was the monster under Frank's bed, he was nudging the corner of a packet now with his toe. Gerard sighed, and turned to Frank.

He started when he saw Frank's hazel eyes open and gleaming, set on him like lazars.

"God, Gerard, I did something really bad." He shut his eyes tightly for a moment and a tear tricked down his nose and onto the bed. "It's my fault they died. All my fault."

Frank took Gerard's hand from where it lay and squeezed it so hard that Gerard's fingers tingled.

Frank snuggled close. Gerard blushed.

They fell asleep.

* * *

*** Morning ***

* * *

Gerard came out of the bathroom clad in a black hoodie and grey skinny jeans. He'd only applied a little eyeliner, but he gulped when he saw Frank, wearing the tightest pair of skinny black jeans he had ever seen (which emphasised a certain area that Gerard was putting all his effort into not ogling) and a Blag Flag hoodie. His eyes were ringed with black makeup, making his hazel eyes stand out like they were luminescent.

Frank was staring at him. Gerard noticed.

"What?" Gerard snapped, eyes narrowing.

"Whoa, calm down, princess. You're _so_ much friendlier cuddling up in bed," Frank joked.

Gerard rolled his eyes and got his school bag.

"Are we walking together?" Frank asked.

A million things ran through Gerard head at that. It all felt like Romeo and Juliet, but much faster. Shakespeare would shudder at the thought of his famous play being re-enacted by two people of the male gender. But still, Gerard felt close to Frank, and the scare thing for him was that he didn't know whether this judgement was a mistake or not. He didn't know enough about Frank yet. Despite all that they had already done together in one heavy day, Gerard didn't know him.

Yet, Frank had really opened up. Gerard knew Frank wasn't weak, yet he had already seen him cry. Plus, having a friend that wasn't his smart-ass younger brother would help him - only terrible friendships were based on lies and secrets.

Gerard had to tell him. He had to.

Gerard hesitated, before saying, "I hope so. Because you deserve to know why I cut. You deserve that for saving me. And I just don't feel like it'd be a truly honest friendship without you knowing."

Frank looked honestly concerned. "You don't have to, I promise."

"I want to," Gerard said, taking Frank's hand in his own. He had to bend over a bit to hold it.

Frank nodded and together they left for school.

Gerard opened his mouth, and he spoke.

* * *

**Do you hate me? I know **_**I **_**hate me. I wanna get to the plot already. Good lord. GIVE ME _STRENGTH_.**

**I am so sorry this took so long. Jodie, I expect fangirling, okay? Okay.**

_**Adios, mi amigos!**_

**-PotterIsMyPatronus **

**xoxox**


End file.
